*** H50 Chapter 2 ***

Grace Williams griped the wheel of Steve's truck with a tighter hold than she wanted to admit. Thirty minutes of driving, and it still felt almost too big to maneuver. It certainly wasn't the same as the Camero her dad let her drive when her mother wasn't around. She was sorry that Danno wasn't the first person she legally chauffeured, but Uncle Steve was an okay second. Especially given that he didn't offer a single bit of criticism or scrutiny. But how could he, passed out like he was in the passenger seat?

She'd thought he looked kinda tired when she'd walked in on him at his office. But Uncle Steve was a military man. And soldiers—what she knew of them, anyway—didn't stop for nothing. Certainly not for the elusive sleep that always seemed just out of reach to a man who'd seen combat. Grace shuddered, casting a quick glace to her right. She couldn't even begin to imagine the things that man had witnessed in his life. She worried over him for it. Sometimes, she hated him for it—for the way he forced that lifestyle onto her father and put him in harm's way. But mostly, like right now, she loved him for it. She was proud of his resolve and the sacrifices he made to make Oahu—her home—a safe and pleasant place to live.

Grace would have smiled as she turned her attention back to the road, if only she knew where it was exactly she was driving to. It was tempting not to pull out her phone and GPS the marsh that Uncle Steve had mentioned before they'd left his office. But for one thing, she couldn't remember what the marsh was called. And for another, she figured she was already going to be in enough trouble when her dad found out she let Uncle Steve be the chaperon on her first legal drive. Before today, she'd only ever driven Danno. And only on quick, five minute runs to the mini-mart for ice cream, or down the road to the beach parking. She really didn't need him to also be angry that she'd broken a viable law against distracted driving her first time behind the wheel.

Grace sighed. She'd have to wake him up, she didn't know what other choice she had. "Uncle Steve?" She laid a gentle had on his arm and shook softly. Nothing. She spoke louder. "Uncle Steve!" Shook him just a little harder. "Wake up."

He startled under her touch, eyes popping open as he lunged into the restraint of the seat belt. His sudden jolt startled her and she pulled away from him. Her reflex jerked the wheel of the truck, swerving recklessly into the other lane. "It's just me, Uncle Steve!" She cried, trying not to over-correct in her fright as she guided the too-large truck back into its own lane. A passing car laid on its horn as it shrieked by.

Grace's heart was pounding in her ears so that she couldn't hear what the Navy SEAL Commander had said in the seat beside her. He seemed to have remembered his situation—the unfamiliar environment coming into focus as he blinked his tired eyes rapidly—because he laid a firm hand on top of hers, which trembled as it strained to keep the wheel straight. The pressure of his touch was calming. She forced her arms to relax; closed her eyes and made her breathing slow, as she trusted the vehicle's direction to Steve's steady hand beneath hers.

After an impossibly long moment, his voice fractured her defense. "Grace. Calm down. It's okay, we're okay. Deep breathes, okay? Grace?" To each word, she nodded, her foot careful to maintain a steady—if measurably slower than marked—speed while the truck continued along the stretch of road.

When her lungs had finally remembered how to work properly, Grace opened tentative eyes and risked a glace to her right. Beside her, the Navy SEAL was laughing. Laughing? She'd nearly killed them, and he found that funny? Her father was right...this man did have a screw or two in need of tightening.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Steve." She said softly, his lack of heated reaction coaxing the words from her mouth.

"Are you okay?" He asked her, the smile still toying at his narrow lips. She nodded, her grip stronger now beneath his own as she reclaimed control of the vehicle. "Of course you are, you're a McDanno kid."

Grace couldn't stop the sudden hysteric bark that tore from her stress-tightened chest. She and Will had dubbed the name for her father and his relationally-challenged partner when they'd suffered through one-too-many carguments with the two, agreeing that they acted more like a married couple than a working team. That her father had overheard them use the term once, was rather uncomfortable. That he'd obviously shared the story with his partner was humiliating. But that Uncle Steve could use it—and effectively, she might add—in the course of casual conversation, was just the kind of relief her anxiety-laced body needed.

"I'm okay," She said, "Only...maybe, never say that again. Okay, Uncle Steve?"

He shrugged. "If you promise to keep this truck on it's own side of the road, I'll consider. Also...We just passed our first exit."